


Tired of Sleeping Alone

by picturewindow



Category: One Direction
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, girl ed sheeran, girl!ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 03:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picturewindow/pseuds/picturewindow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A genderswap fic in which Harry stays at girl!Ed's flat just about every night, and it takes him a while to realize how stupidly domestic it is, and that he kind of likes it.<br/>(Mostly I wrote this because Ed talking about how Harry never actually stays at his own house, and prefers to stay with his friends made my heart flutter)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired of Sleeping Alone

It’s not like he’s moved in to her flat, and nothing about their dynamic has really changed, but Harry can’t remember the last time he slept in his own bed, and he certainly doesn’t mind. He likes it here, staying with Ed. It’s cluttered, and she leaves her clothes everywhere and she never puts anything away, but it’s fine. And he doesn’t even mind that there’s never a moment of silence, how even when she’s quiet, she’s absently strumming her guitar or humming new melodies. It isn’t even quiet when they’re sleeping, because she insists on falling asleep with the television on, but Harry secretly likes it, because this is what makes a home feel lived in, and it’s something his own house lacks.  
  
That’s the reason he stays, and even though Louis insists that there has to be some ulterior motive behind it, there’s not. Really, there’s not. Harry hates living alone. He hates sleeping alone, and it’s easier to stay with a friend than pulling a new girl every other night. And this way he feels better about himself in the morning, so that’s another plus. Ed doesn’t really seem to mind it, either, and it’s not like she ever judged him for sleeping around (which everyone assumed he had done a lot more than he actually did), but she seems to be much happier to know that Harry’s not that guy. Not that it matters to Harry, because it doesn’t. Really.  
  
They’re not even at her flat all that often, anyway, because they’ve both got tours and crazy schedules, and Harry’s lucky if he gets a few days at a time to just relax. But…he has to admit that it’s nice – really nice – to come back to her place after a long day of interviews, and curl up next to her on the couch with a beer and a shitty rental movie, and tonight is no exception. It’s been tough day. The band was slightly mobbed by fans after their radio interview, and Harry knows that they mean well, but it’s still absolutely terrifying, and someone stole his favorite hat, and it’s…it’s hard to keep your cool and be yourself, or even pleasant when you’re worried you’re about to get hurt. He’s sure there are blog entries written up already about how pissy he seemed, the headline something along the lines of Harry Styles: Diva, but right now he doesn’t care.  
  
Ed laughs at something that happened in the movie, but Harry wasn’t paying attention so he just grins at her when she looks up to see his reaction. Her hair is down today, and it’s wild and slightly frizzy, but Harry thinks it’s beautiful and he runs his fingers through the wild strands. She sighs contentedly, and that’s when it hits Harry. He’s not here just to not be alone. That’s part of it, but this is…this is new. Since when has he looked at someone so fondly as he does with her? Sure, he regards all his friends with a high level of appreciation and a bit of amazement, but this is different, and it’s making Harry nauseous. He realizes that he’d rather spend the rest of his life drinking crappy beer and watching movies on the couch with Ed than doing anything else, and he goes still – enough for her to notice.  
  
Ed tilts her head when she looks at him, like she’s trying to figure him out, and even though half of him desperately doesn’t want her to get there, the other half is just about to blurt it out when his cell phone rings, and it’s Niall. He’s simultaneously saved and cock-blocked. Ed grabs the phone and puts it on speaker, announcing her presence.  
  
“Eeeedithhhh, mate!” Niall’s voice is downright giddy.  
  
“You know better than to call me that, Horan,” Ed glowers. And it’s true, Niall does know better, but there’s nothing like getting a rise out of Ed just by calling her by her full name.  
  
“What are you both up to? You stayin’ at Ed’s place again, tonight, Harry?”  
  
“Er, yeah…I just…” Harry’s not sure when he forgot how to speak English, but now is not a good time.  
  
Niall chuckles. “You guys are weirdly domestic, you know that, right? You might as well just–”  
  
“Piss off, Niall. What did you want?” At least Ed seemed to be unaffected, because Harry’s mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls, and when did the room get so warm? He pulls the collar of his shirt away, hoping it would help, now that the room is suddenly stifling.  
  
“Just wanted to know what you’re up to, is all,” he defends, a smile in his voice. “But it seems like neither of you want to go out tonight.”  
  
He’s stopped paying attention to the conversation, because all he can focus on is how close Ed is. She’s practically on his lap, and this is normal for them, and Niall’s right. They are weirdly domestic. But…Harry thinks he likes it, and he thinks he likes it a lot. He knew he had a stupid little crush on her, but he thought it was just that; a stupid little crush. Everyone has a crush on Ed, though, so he didn’t really think anything of it. She’s beautiful and the amount of talent seeping out of her pores is unbelievable and she can bring a whole arena to tears with just her own lyrics and her voice. She’s so disgustingly heartfelt that she makes everyone feel like they’re important, but sometimes when she looks at Harry, he knows that it’s more. He knew he wanted that, but…he didn’t understand how much more important he wanted to be to her, until now.  
  
He gets suddenly jealous, worried that he won’t be the one who gets to come home to her every night. He wants to be the only one to know how it feels to wake up to the slight dip in the bed when she slides in after a late show, or to feel her arms wrap around him from behind, and her breath slow on the back of his neck, and before he even has the chance to turn around and cuddle her properly, she’s already sound asleep. Maybe he’s known this for a while, now, but he’s refused to let himself think about it or accept that this is more than a stupid little crush. But she hangs up the phone, curls into him again, and Harry knows that he has genuine feelings for this girl, and nothing has ever been truer.  
  
“Do you…” he begins, drawing out every syllable. “Do you mind that I stay here every night?”  
  
She removes herself from his side, to sit at the other end of the couch to see him better and he just wants to pull her back to him and tell her to forget he ever said anything.  
  
“Is this about what Niall said?” Ed asks. “Because you know if I didn’t want you here, you’d have been long gone a month ago.”  
  
He laughs, relieved, but then pushes on. “No, I know. It’s just…do you think it’s the best idea?”  
  
It’s not what he meant to say, and it’s not how he meant to say it. Her eyes narrow. She pulls her legs towards her, curling up by herself, looking terribly lonely, and Harry absolutely hates that now is not an appropriate time to fix that.  
  
“Why?”  
  
It’s all she says, and it’s pure defense. Harry thinks he can actually see the walls that she’s putting up, so before he thinks it through, he confesses, “I just think that in a situation like this, it would be easy for one of us to get attached.”  
  
He feels like an idiot now, because that didn’t come out right, either. She sets her jaw and huffs out a breath. “I’m…don’t worry about it. If you don’t want to stay anymore, you don’t have to. It’s fine. I’m not going to make you constantly worried that I’m in love with you, or…something.”  
  
Harry wishes she would just punch him in the face, because she looks hurt, and he’s seen her like this before, but now he’s the cause, and it’s unacceptable. “Ed,” he whispers, “it’s not you that I’m worried about. And I think…it might already be too late.”  
  
She softens her gaze for a split second, before hardening her eyes again. “Don’t just say that. You can’t just say that because I’m upset,” her voice quavers. “Fuck, I can’t believe…” Her sentence falls short, and she just shakes her head.  
  
“I’m not!” Harry is adamant now, because this is Ed and he’s not going to sort of tell her his feelings. He’s going to full on admit them. “Ed, I swear! I wouldn’t do that, and especially not to you. I…”  
  
And he knows what he wants to say now, because he knows it’s true. He wants to tell her that he’s never been happier than he’s been since she gave him his own drawer (which probably should have made him realize then). That no, they’re not dating, except they practically are, and if he had to describe his ideal girlfriend, he would find himself describing her. He wants to come home to her every night and wake up next to her every morning, and fuck, he wants that every day for the rest of his life. Because this isn’t how you feel about your best friend. This is how you feel about the person you love.  
  
“I’m in love with you,” is all he manages, but it isn’t even scary, because it’s Ed.  
  
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” she grins, as if this she hasn’t seen him in twenty years. “Here I was, feeling sorry for myself and pining over my best friend, and he’s…he’s…”  
  
“He’s been in love with you, long before he even realized,” Harry interrupted, finally giving into the urge to pull her back over to his side of the couch. “I’m sorry I’m not very eloquent.”  
  
She rolls her eyes and straddles his lap. “You’re perfect.”  
  
Harry smiles wide – dimples and all – and ignores the fluttering in his chest, because he’s in love but he’s not twelve, and cups her face in his hands. It’s Harry and Ed, so their first kiss isn’t exactly chaste, and it definitely leads to other, less chaste, activities later, but Harry gives himself at least some credit because it’s Ed and he’s been sleeping next to her for months without making a move. He’s been a complete gentleman the whole time and hasn’t tried anything, even though he really wanted to on countless, drunken nights, but he’s respected her space, and now…now she’s pulling him over to her side of the bed and her clothes are off and Harry confirms that he is an absolute idiot who should have realized how he felt sooner.  
  
In the morning, he has to get up early to go to the studio, and he’s a little disoriented when his alarm goes off, because he’s found that he’s woken up on the wrong side of the bed. And there she is, long red curls splayed out on his pillow, and he knows that pillow is going to smell like her when she wakes up, and he really, really, likes that.


End file.
